Tag Archives: “Marty”

The Karen Drinking Game

1 Mar

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It’s my free night off from diet foodage.

Marty and I are post-show funking at my house, while festing “Will & Grace,” season two. 

…I am constantly yelling sexual things about Will’s pecks and shoulders in those tight sweaters, Marty is fawning over Grace’s hair…we both laugh at Just Jack, and bow down to the over all genius and magnificence that is: Karen.

…The bitch has got it goin’ on. In just every realm of everything.

…Which is what happens when you get Megan Mullally to do something.

We are currently on a short break, while Marty smokes, and I blog. We are approximately half way (I’d say) through the Karen Walker Drinking Game, which is exactly as it sounds in that you drink whenever she does.  Here are the rules:

1. You must announce each swig with, “Drink!” and then do so.

2. There are no penalties for extra drinking.

3. You must have at least one glass of water for every two of wine (because some people have rehearsals tomorrow. Those “some people” are not me, but it is still a good idea.)

4. Neither one  of us can get so sloshed that we can’t complete our required blog quota for the night.

5. In the words of Karen: “Do this like any respectable woman, lay on your back, point your heels to Jesus and think of handbags!”

…Yeah.

…My God. If Karen ever had an an oversea trip and met up with Patsy and Eddie in “Ab-Fab”,  my life would finally be complete.

Smoke break is over kids. 

…Back to the game.

~D

F%@$ You, Downton Abbey!: A Love Letter

19 Feb

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**Spoiler Alert**

If you haven’t yet watched the finale of Downton’s Season 3, then stop reading now…or I will ruin your life. 

…If you have already seen it: Julian Fellows ruined our lives, and this is the part where we grieve together.

First of all, Marty kept it secret for a whole week. 

…I’d gotten her the season for her Birthday, which she dutifully ate up, then drew blood on a continual basis by biting her tongue about what happens.  She was supposed to have brought the discs to our Friday Girl’s Night, but had forgotten them at home, so we both stewed, then got over it, then went to see a film which made us forget everything but awesome stuff.

…Regardless of how amazing Maggie Smith is, this still meant that I was gonna have to wait until at least Monday to see what the rest of the world was already going to know, by late Sunday. No cable, means streaming ability only, (thank you Masterpiece), and work, plus rehearsal meant it was gonna have to wait until late.

…And it did.

…And then I got really pissed.

…And used some choice words that apparently Dame Smith finds particularly appealing in her own personal lexicon.

…But before all that, I needed to follow through on a promise. A blood oath with Marty that I would hook in, as soon as the episode began, and IM her my immediate responses she would have been able to SEE, had she remembered to bring the damn discs last Friday. Which (because of the interactive way I tend to watch television anyway), became a mass flood in stream-of-consciousness updates yelled at both her, and the TV screen.

I include it here as follows:

**

Me Text: And Downton begins…

Marty: Ooooohhhh my Jesus!! Do you know what happens already?

Me Text: Nope. Surprised it’s a year later, automatically.

Me to TV: Ooo. Alternate intro. Mixin’ it up, kids…!

Marty: She’s pregnant!!!!

Me Text: Yup. 🙂 The end spoiler last week showed it though.

Me to TV: Well, they can’t kill off Mary, so it won’t be that. But something not right is gonna happen with the baby. Obviously. To freak everyone out about it. Bet it comes way early or something…

Me Text: It’s gonna be a Preemie…just know it.

Me to TV: Wait. Maid-chick-what? Nope. Bitch, step down!

Me Text: Crap. Branson and a maid. Crap.

Marty: I know. You see her and you are like, LAY OFF BITCH.

Me to TV: Dude, don’t be an idiot stereotype. Stay AWAY from the Help! Know your place!!

Me to TV: Meanwhile…A castle. With actual turrets…!

Me Text: Hello Scotland. Yes, please.

Me to TV: Party times! Boss is out!! Lets bust out of here everyone, and add some color into our wardrobes!!!

Me to TV: Shit. Everyone is gonna be gone from the house. Something’s gonna happen to the house…!

Me Text: If the house burns to the ground or something while at the fair, I’m gonna lose it.

Me to TV: Oh. Wait. Wait. Mrs. Crawley’s gettin’ all hit ooooon….

Me Text: Ahhh…Matthew’s Mama and the Doc. Bomb-chicka-bow-wow.

Marty: I know. Right?!?!

Me to TV: Oh dear lord in heaven. TWO Mrs. O’Briens. Save us all…

Me to TV: God. Mary, whhhhy must you allllways be suuuuuch a biiiiiitch.

Me Text: Mary is suuuuuuch a bitch.

(My stream freezes as Downstairs are collected looking out the window at a twitterpated Mrs. Patmore. I cuss. I doodle with the computer. I reboot and reset.)


Me Text: My stream just died. Trying to start over and skip to the same part. Fuck.

Marty: Nnnnnnooooooooo that’s not cool!!!! What part are you at?

Me to TV: Fucking computer and it’s fucking…oh…there. Ok. That works-ish I guess.

Me Text: Got it goin’ but had to go back a bit. Bates and Anna and the smoking peppermint.

Me to TV: I love you Bates’ so much…why haven’t you made babies yet?

Me to TV: …And back to the “borrowed” Jane Eyre plot point of the dude with the crazy wife no one knows about…

Me Text: Poor Edith and her shitty men. YOU’RE ALREADY MARRIED, JAGHOLE!

Marty: I know, but not really. I mean he shouldn’t have to suffer with an insane wife for forever. I mean, she doesn’t even know who he is.

Me Text: He shouldn’t. But she deserves better. Wow. This is like the “everyone hooking up with everyone else” episode…

Me to TV: (Totally cracking up and repeating:) Daisy: Mrs. Patmore? Why not? She’s a woman, ain’t she? Thomas: Only “technically”…

Me to TV: Establishing shot to die by. Lookit that! Lookit it!!

Me Text: Scotland is ridiculous. I want to go to there.


Marty: Yes it is!!!! And we will go there!!

Me to TV: Ohhhh! Shut up, shut up…romancing by a hot Doc…and she has like no idea what is ahead…but I do!

Me Text: A date! With the Doc!!

Marty: Holler!!!

Me to TV: OMG. Anna. Why are you so freakin’ adorable? Lookit her. Learning to reel. How fucking cute is she??

Me Text: I love Anna 🙂

(Computer stream freezes and jerks. And starts. And freezes again. And then goes. Kinda.)


Me Text: Dammit. Keeps freezing the stream…

Me to TV: Oh shit! Thomas is getting the living crap beat out of him!! Dude, Mason MOVE YOUR ASS!! Go get someone you freakin’ idiot!

(Stream freezes again.)

Me to TV: STOP IT!!! YOU’RE RUINING EVERYTHING!! WORK, GODDAMN YOU…!!!

(The stream freezes one last time, jiggles, pops and goes on seamlessly once more.)

Me to TV: And about fucking time! Now. Where were we. Oh. Yeah. Mason just standing there like an asshat while Thomas bleeds all over the place for him.

Me to TV: Oh…Carson and baby Sybil…how gross-cute is thaaaaaat?

Marty: Ahhhh you’re killing me. What part are you at?

Me to TV: Damn. Forgot Marty…

Me Text: Butler and the baby. Thomas just beat up. Anna about to show her stuff, I bet.

Marty: Carson and the baby is the fucking cutest thing ever.

Me Text: OMG. So cute 🙂

Me to TV: And Mrs. Hughes. I love them. They need to follow THAT love story line. It was TOTALLY there during the cancer scare and then just dropped off to nothing immediately.(Laughing and repeating) Mrs. Hughes: Lovely to see you cherish the wee bairn. Carson: No need to get all sentimental about it…

Me to TV: Men. In. Kilts. Thank you God. And Julian Fellows…

Me to TV: Who’d have thunk there could be someone to try and out-O’Brien, O’Brien?! It’s like evil, squared!

Me Text: Shit. That’s a good slug of whiskey.

Me to TV: Shit. I want a good slug of whiskey…

Me to TV: Oh, here it comes!

Me Text: Anna 🙂

Me to TV: Lookit him look at her…lookit that faaaace. Ohhh…and how he says that thing about…Go! Go and make babies you two!! I demand it!!

Me to TV: …And the part where Mrs. Patmore doesn’t get, at all, that she is being “used.” Stupid women…

Me Text: Alfred’s gonna be the new cook I bet. Geeze they are packing this episode FULL.

Marty: They have so much to cover. But I love that Mrs. Patmore is like, “Of course a man can cook!!”

Me to TV: What are you doing? Who do you think you are you little…Back it uuuup! Back! It! Up!

Me Text: GET AWAY FROM BRANSON U SLUT!

Marty: I KNOW!!!! HE’S SYBIL’S AND ALWAYS WILL BE.

Me Text: I know!!! Oh. Contractions!

Me to TV: … And so it begins. What new hell have you in store for us now, Downton Abbey…?

Me to TV: Meanwhile, of course. Have to “replace” the spirited dead daughter with another person who wants to be just like her, only is annoying, cuz she ISN’T her.

Me Text: I don’t want Rose at Downton. Dammit.

Me to TV: Oh. Mrs. Hughes. Can I keep you? I love that woman. So much. She’s just the best of everything that is good. Listen to her Branson, she knows what’s what.

Me Text: Mrs. Hughes…such a good woman.

Marty: I love her so much. She’s so smart and observant.

Me to TV: Shut up! I’m not crying just cuz he is…and she’s all there and comforting him and…shut up!

Me Text: I know. Baby Born!

Me to TV: Well. That was anti-climatic. Which just means some NEW kind of awful will be taking place. It won’t be Branson now…so is it the house? Is it one of the 11 romances flying through the air? Is it something at the Scottish castle? If something happens to Anna or Bates, I’m gonna kill myself… DAMMIT, Downton, you EXHAUST ME!

Me to TV: Dear Matthew, WHY do you INSIST on seeing “good” in that bitch wife of yours? She’s awful.

Me to TV: (Repeating with a scoff) Mary: I wish everyone else could see me the way you do, and not the way Edith and other people do… THEN STOP BEING A BITCH, MARY. IT’S KINDA REALLY EASY!

Me to TV: Driving. Driving fast. Oh shit…

Me Text:–Driving fast. Shit. No. Shit.

(Aaaaaan the whole Downton world implodes. With it’s eyes wide open, lying in a ditch. I actually, physically, stand up.)

Me to TV: FUCK! YOU! JULIAN! FELLOWS!!!!

Me Text: FUCK YOU, JULIAN FELLOWS!!!!

Marty: Bad. Bad. Bad.

Me to TV: Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME??!?!?!

Marty: (Like she could hear me.) RIGHT?!??! IT’S NOT OKAY!

Me Text: FUCK. YOU.

Me to TV: …I can’t even…SERIOUSLY??!?!

Me Text: Fuck! Yoooooooou!!!

(Inward sob.)

Marty: Apparently we have to say that to Matthew. He didn’t renew his contract cause he wanted to move on so they had to kill him. BUT IT’S STILL NOT OKAY.

Me Text: Fuck them all!!!

Marty: Fuuuuuuuucccckk it. How could he do that to us?!?!?

Me to TV: Stupid Actors, and their stupid careers!!!

Me Text: I am a Hulk of anger!!!! SMASH!!!!

Marty: Rrrrraaaahhhh!!!

(I sulk on the couch and yell at the credits rolling on the TV.)

Marty: You got so happy didn’t you. So fucking happy and then they took your heart and ripped it out.

Me Text: Those bastards.

Marty: And we have 10 fucking months until the next one.

Me Text: Fuck. Fuck. Just. Fuck.

***

…Which soon after ended our correspondence because I felt I needed to go to bed…being almost midnight-thirty.

…But then, I was too wound up to sleep (of course.) So instead, stayed up til 2 a.m. watching every. freakin. piece. of. supplemental. Downton. materials. I. could. find.

…Until I finally, finally fell asleep.

…And that’s the way it went down. In real-time.

The end.

~D

Back From Storybrooke

9 Feb

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Harriet has travelled 465.9 miles since Friday morning, and made her first International trip, smuggling Americans over the border.

…She was very accommodating.

…Even if we were totally legal about it.  (We tried to keep that part on the down-low to give her a more a feel for the dramatic.)

…She (and we) were welcomed into Richmond B.C., and the tiny hamlet that it Steveston, for a joyous and tiny trip abroad to geek out about the film-set town that is Storybrooke, Maine in “Once Upon A Time.” 

We took mug shots of Mr. Golds:

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…Gawked at The Library, ate breakfast at Granny’s:

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…And braved only poking our heads into the bread peddler’s:

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…As we sipped our coffees from a variety of coffee houses and frequented the tiny town boutiques, after an evening of yummy Birthday eats n’ drinks care of Marty’s family from Michigan, Indiana and Scotland abroad:

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It was a a perfect get-away, an excellent closer to our show, with an ironic theme which seemed to follow us everywhere…coming full circle to the end of our Holiday. 

…And what we found was a town of happy, and most accepting Canadians, who’d rather sleep in till 11 on a Saturday, than open early and sell something, owned an average of 1.5 dogs per person, preferred bicycles to motor vehicles, drink lots and lots of coffee from no less than 12 separate roasters, are in love with starch (mostly in the forms of baked goods and pastas), and are totally passive about the fact that Hollywood occasionally takes over their entire town to film some TV show, then halfway covers some of it back up until they return again later on whatever random dates.

…Whether filming, or not…life goes on in the little doppelganger that is sleepy little “Storybrooke,” much the same, either way. 

And we’ve seen it. 

So now you know. 

~D

The Nice Lesbian Couple At The End Of The Hall

8 Feb

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Tonight’s blog is a joint effort with Marty. Enjoy here.

~D

Harriet, Marty & Roz “Do” Canada

7 Feb

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So this is my “Friday.”

…Tomorrow, in the early morning times, I’m driving Harriet south to pick up Marty (and her Sailor Moon pillow and her Snooki slippers), and then we are OFF! Northbound for the border to the end of our lands…where Canadia lives.

…Oh, Canadia.

Canadia and your cheap booze, and UK book stock, and tiny port towns where you film all our American TV shows…we love you so.

…We love how you’re just there, at the top, like that.

…We love your funny money, and how you stamp maple leaves on everything…even McDonalds salt packets.

…We love how you have a Queen and are related to those people on the other side of the water, which is the best place in the world.

…We love how you talk funny and are charming about it, not “white-trashy.”

…We love how this is your idea of crime:

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Together, we girls are gonna explore your world for two days, in celebration of Marty’s Birthday! (As 99% funded by her brilliantly generous parents and siblings.) I dunno why I getta tag along for free, but dammit if I ain’t gonna grab that opportunity and jump on board while it whooshes by!!! To celebrate a Marty SHOULD take an out-of-country experience! And it’ll give a neat little ending to Karen and Martha’s finally getting to take their vacation together…after all.

…It’ll also be the last time we’ll get to see each other in a good chunk of time for a while after that. On account of being in two shows in two different counties, with another one in between, and both starting rehearsals the same week. Course we’ll still find a way to annoy our neighbors with loud wino nights of glory whenever we can manage it…lets not be ridiculous…this is anything but “the end.”

…But it is “the end” for our four-show, back-to-back, run of joy together. It was a helluva ride…we even eventually got to speak lines to one another and everything!

And what lines.

…Can’t wait for our ‘venture.

Hey Marty…is it tomorrow yet????

~D

Dear SWAL 3.0

31 Jan

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Welcome back to Dear SWAL…our monthly installment of where Marty fwds me her Customer Service woes and I answer them the way we would all want to, if it wouldn’t get us fired by doing so. For last month’s episode, click here. For the rest of us, let’s move on to a review of a common problem: Blatant Customer Stupidity, or BCS.

…A lot of us who deal with BCS on a daily basis, have figured out a variety of trouble shooting exercises and go-tos that can help, when their common sense has all but failed them. But sometimes, you’ll get someone in such an advanced stage of BCS that even the tried-and-true tricks of the trade are beyond their capabilities. And sometimes those people aren’t even customers really, their whole purpose is to review your product and write about it. These people are called just plain BS’s. (Conveniently this abbreviation works for both the placeholder of what they are AND what they DO, for a living.) And this is Marty’s exchange (in edit form) with them.

…SWAL’S comments are bolded for your convenience.

***

BS: I’d be interested in checking out a review copy of “X” so at least I’d know how to promote your new book…I doubt I’ll make it to your top ten list on this promotion. Since I haven’t started a list of my own yet. But, I do get over 1,800 visitors a day…so, I may be able to sell a few.

Thank you for the heads up about this

~BS

Marty: The first link is for the sign up and the second is to an affiliate copy of the program

(Link 1) (Link 2)

Login: “login”

Password: “password”

~ M

***

SWAL: …So far, so good…

***

BS: Oh, you’re such a tease. (SWAL: Uh, what??) If you didn’t want to send me a review copy why did you bother sending me this e-mail? (SWAL: She fucking sent you a link. TO THE COPY.) Clicked your first link and signed up, fine, I went through your first hoop like a trained puppy dog. (SWAL: Ummm…) Second link, put the e-mail and the password in you sent me and NOTHING! NOT-A. A waist of time.

…So, I’ll tell you what. If you’d like for me to get the review copy so I can promote the book then jump through the hoops for me and the download link should end up in my e-mail box. (SWAL: Woa buddy, excuse me?!) Or better yet just send me a download link and not waist each others time with this busy work non productive stuff.

~ BS

***

SWAL: …Oh HELL no…!

***

Marty: I am very sorry but when I click on that link and type in the below, I get logged into the program no problem. What problems did you have? There is no need to be rude, I will help you.

login: “login”
password: “password”

~ M

BS: Hey, I apologize, I didn’t mean to sound rude! (SWAL: Coulda fuckin’ fooled me.) I’m just frustrated now. My e-mail address is (“his personal email”) Right? The password you give me was (“password”) Right? It still doesn’t work for me. So, when I click lost password it says there is no such e-mail address in your data base or something along that line.

…I’m really getting tired of playing around with something so simple yet still won’t work for me. (SWAL: **facepalm**) Can you just send me a download link PLEASE? I don’t know what else to do.

~ BS

Marty: I am very sorry for any confusion, but I now see what the problem is. You need to use the login I gave you, as well. The (“login”) login.

login: “login”
password: “password”

~ M

***

SWAL: Its one thing when you “hear” something and mix it up so can’t follow it properly…but when the fucker is IN TYPE, what is your excuse then??)

***

BS: I know we are both speaking English here, (SWAL: ARE you though? ARE you?) maybe I’m just too stupid to do this… (SWAL: Well, OBVIOUSLY. Yes.) …but when I click login: and login…It takes me to a screen to write an e-mail. Is that what you want before you send me a download link? An e-mail with the password you gave me? Well here you go: “Account” (SWAL: **Double facepalm**)

…Now, it may be on my end (SWAL: Yuh think?!) …but, we are having a really bad misunderstanding of each other here. (SWAL: Only YOU, buddy, she understands you perfectly. Unfortunately.) All I asked for was a download link for the preview of this book so I could read it to get the jest of this book to know how to promote it without making promises to my readers the book won’t fulfill. Saving us both refunds and hurting our rankings in clickbank. (SWAL: And I believe that is exactly what she did.)

No other marketer has made me jump through this many hoops to promote their book before. (SWAL: What is with the fucking “hoops” crap?!) I’m confused and frustrated now. Skip the password stuff and PLEASE just send me a download link because I’m tired of these games where I’m on the losing end. (SWAL: She can only help your incompetence so far, pal…) …Maybe you’re getting paid to play e-mail tag but, I’m NOT. The time I’ve spent in our correspondence with this issue could have been spent writing a blog post promoting something else. (SWAL: And based on your performance here, no doubt with efficiency and intelligent, educated judgement.)

I’ll tell you what, if you can make your link work for you and the password work for you (which it doesn’t for me) I’ve tried it. Do me a favor and do it with using my e-mail address…
(SWAL: **Triple facepalm.** Have run out of faces and palms and am now borrowing other people’s.) …and I should see the download link in my e-mail box.

…One thing for sure is my blog readers will ask for a refund before they go through this much hassle to get a download. (SWAL: I would hope your blog readers are smarter then this, but then if they follow your blog, we can only hold out so much hope.) … And I’ve never had a return so far and don’t want to start now.

My goal of this e-mail was to be a simple thank you note to express my appreciation to you for even bothering to deal with me (SWAL: As well it SHOULD be.) …and say I got the download link and I was able to read the book now.

…But instead I have to admit I’m a stupid asshole that had to bug you again still without a clue what the heck I’m suppose to do to get a review copy. (SWAL: JUST FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS! ) Oh sure I could have just said still can’t get the book to download for me (but where’s the fun in that?) I never made it to a download page to begin with. (SWAL: HOW?! HOW?! HOW can you STILL not figure it OUT?!) …And I’m not known for short and sweet anyway. I hope I didn’t sound too bitter or offensive with my comments here though.

Your Frustrated Buddy,

~ BS

***

SWAL: Dear Lord…how does she DEAL with this shit…

***

Marty: Am very sorry if any of this isn’t clear and will do my best to make it more clear. Apologies

Please click on this link

(“Link”)

That link should take you to a page where you are asked to type in a login and password. For the login please type: (“Login.”) For the password please type: (“Password.”) Do not type in your own personal email for the login. Please use the login and password I have given you.

I cannot send you a download of the book to read because we don’t have a direct download link for the book. The book is separated into modules and we do not have a link for all the material that we can give out right now. I hope those instructions are clear.

~ M

***

…And he was never heard from again.

That concludes this month’s edition of Dear SWAL. Here’s hoping all our retail friends in Customer Service, here and abroad, have less BCS and BS’s in their lives this month. And if not: at least you now know: you ain’t alone.

~D

More Later

19 Jan

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I know the yous understand another short post…as The BFF leaves tomorrow, and this is a last playdate post-show with the family.

…Plenty of reporting about it later 😉

~D

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